


Symbiotic

by annieoakley1



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieoakley1/pseuds/annieoakley1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing that could make him feel worse in that moment was for Gale to be someone that was truly worthy of Katniss, someone that a normal brother would approve of.  They really could be together, if she wanted.  No one would question it.  No one would stop them.  There would be nothing to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symbiotic

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Jessa and Sharon for liking all the same weird, wonderful things I do, haha.

“We’re half-siblings.”

It was what Peeta always said when he was told that he and Katniss looked nothing alike. He heard that a lot, and every person saying it seemed to believe they were the first to make such a cunning observation, something which annoyed Peeta endlessly. But he always answered with a sweet smile, never a hint of anything else.

It was fact that they didn’t resemble each other at all. Peeta was broad-shouldered and blond, with eyes a deeper blue than their mothers, while Katniss was slim and slight, with olive-colored skin and straight black hair. Physical opposites in every way.

Katniss took after her father, the miner. Peeta’s father was the baker. He didn’t know much else beyond that, and the only photo he had ever seen was crinkled and yellowed, and that disappeared years ago, not too long after the baker had. He couldn’t remember anything about the man for himself since he was gone before Peeta was walking. While Peeta had an impeccable memory, nothing before his first birthday ever stuck.

He remembered when the miner started coming around, though. Those were strong, barely-marred-by-time memories. Technicolor ones saturated in the bitterness of what could have been. They played on loop in one half of his mind, comforting or mocking, and always haunting.

The miner smoked menthols and smelled like Stetson, but he was perpetually dirty, a sheen of coal dust coating his naturally dark skin. His smile, however, was blindingly white, and he happily gave it to everyone he came across. He was always good to Peeta, even if he shared no blood with the boy. He’d tousle the toddler’s blond curls, make silly faces, and cook breakfast for him every morning while his mama was still in bed. “Bunnies in a basket,” he’d say, cutting up the egg fried in the middle of a slice of bread. The name didn’t make any sense to Peeta, who was barely two at the time, but it tasted good and he cleaned his plate.

The baker was a coward, his mama would say. She’d tell him that real men took care of their own, but the only thing the baker ever gave Peeta was his name. It didn’t matter what she said about the baker, though, because Peeta didn’t remember anything about him. He remembered the miner. And he remembered Katniss.

He remembered everything about Katniss.

~*~

“You were in Mama’s belly and I could feel you swimmin ‘round in there,” he said as she snuggled up next to him, her eyes heavy with sleep. He told her all about the first time he felt her kick against him as he sat in his mama’s lap, and she listened intently, finally settling down for naptime. Peeta was always the only one she’d behave for. 

“You’re full of shit,” Mama would say later, after he wrapped a blanket around Katniss and quietly slipped off the chair, careful to not disturb her as she slept. “You don’t remember any of that. You were a damn baby, too.”

But he did remember. He remembered the color of his mama’s shirt that day, and the way the smoke from her cigarette stung his eyes. He remembered that she was yelling at the coal miner because he wanted to hunt with his friends. He remembered that when he felt the push from his mama’s belly, he asked her what it was, and the miner smiled and said it was his baby sister, Katniss. “We ain’t naming her Katniss!” Mama yelled at the time. She was wrong about that, though. Just like she was wrong about this.

“You’re gonna be startin school soon and you can’t keep tellin stories like you do,” she said now. 

Peeta wanted to tell her that he wasn’t telling stories, that it was the truth and he always told the truth, but he knew that his mama was in one of her moods, so he kept his mouth shut. Across the room, Katniss stirred in her sleep, roused by Mama’s booming voice, so Peeta mumbled a quick, “Yes, ma’am,” and went to tend to her.

~*~

He had only one truly bad memory associated with the miner, but there were few recollections that he wished to erase more.

Peeta had heard the knock at the door in the middle of the night, and he pulled back the covers and stumbled to Katniss’s crib, which she was far too big for at nearly 5-years-old. She was up now, too, and rubbing her eyes as she called for him. He helped her out just as he had helped her in, and they walked hand-in-hand to the top of the stairs, Katniss clutching her threadbare blanket that once belonged to Peeta.

They watched mama at the front door, sobbing uncontrollably as the police officers stood around her. Peeta didn’t understand. Were they coming for her? Did they arrest the miner? He needed to hear what they were saying, so he firmly told Katniss to stay there, and he crept down the steps until he was within earshot. He listened as the cops tried to console her, apologizing for her loss as she cried out the miner’s name over and over again. When he realized that the miner was gone forever, he held back his own tears and returned to Katniss, taking her little hand in his and leading her back to their room. 

“Come on, you can sleep in the bed with me,” he said, and she stayed with him every night since.

~*~

The miner’s death changed their mama, and it wasn’t long before Peeta realized that the worst memories were to come.

She stayed in her room most days, not caring if her children ate, or bathed, or went to school. But Peeta fed Katniss and always made sure she brushed her teeth, and he’d sit next to her on the bus even though he had lots of friends who wanted to sit with him.

They would wait together quietly when they got home until he tried to make a meal out of any of the meager offerings from the cupboards. They had a fat settlement check from the mining company, but it set uncashed as their mother slept all day and night. “We have to be quiet,” Peeta would tell his sister. “We don’t want to wake her up.”

Because it was so much worse when she got out of bed. Once she was up and out of her room, she was unhinged, any sound or movement setting her off into a violent fit. Peeta felt as if he was being forced to tap dance on a minefield, and he pleaded silently with Katniss to behave, to not do anything to upset the woman. Every crack of her open palm met his cheek instead of Katniss’s, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Peeta always told the truth before, but now he had to lie to live. He’d lie to Mama to keep her calm. He’d lie to his teachers about the bruises covering his face. He’d lie to his friends about why they couldn’t come over to his house after school. 

But he refused to lie to Katniss. She always deserved the truth. Always.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked him one night as she held a cold compress against his hand, which was blistering from burns from where Mama held it against the electric stove. 

He gritted his teeth, hating how small she sounded in that moment. He didn’t want her blaming herself, even if the toys littering the living room floor did belong to her, even if he’d asked her multiple time to just please pick them up as he tried to make supper from canned goods.

“No,” he breathed, hurt that she could think that. “I could never be mad at you.”

~*~

Every good moment in his life was linked to Katniss, so she had a starring role in the most pleasant of memories.

When he was in the 6th grade, Peeta earned top honors for his academic achievement. And for his science test scores, he received a gold medal hanging off a purple ribbon. It was just a cheap thing, thin and hollow and likely bought at the dollar store by his teacher. But it meant more to him than any inanimate object ever had.

“There,” he said, placing it over Katniss’s bowed head. “Now you have a pretty necklace.”

Katniss stared down at the medal, tracing her thumb along the curve with a smile on her face. Their mother sat at the kitchen table and read over the letter informing her of her son’s accomplishments. 

“You actually know this stuff?” she asked, unimpressed. “Or are you just shitting back the stuff you saw in class?”

Peeta held his tongue. He didn’t want anything else triggering another one of her outbursts. The lashes on his back were still open from when she took the belt to him the night before.

“Do. You. Understand. It?” she snapped, slamming the letter down on the formica countertop. She knew that Peeta could look over something for a few seconds and it’d be burnt into his brain forever, so every ‘A’ he ever earned meant less than nothing to her. She didn’t wait for him to reply, just told him that anyone could do that, and then she pulled another cigarette from her pack.

“But they’re not giving medals to just anyone,” he said, glaring at her. 

She stiffened as she turned to look at him, and he knew immediately that he made a terrible mistake. “Katniss,” he said, still holding their mother’s stare. “Go upstairs.”

“No, Mama, please,” Katniss cried, rushing to her and throwing her arms around the woman’s neck. Katniss loathed hugging her mother, would avoid touching her at all costs, but she knew she had a weakness for her little girl who looked just like the miner she still cried for.

Mama relaxed, her hand coming up to caress Katniss’s thick braid. Peeta watched her carefully, worried that she would still snap and Katniss would be the one to get her hand. But her eyes fell shut as she embraced her daughter, holding her in a way she would never hold her son.

“Why did you do that?” he asked later as they laid in bed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She inched closer to him under the covers, settling her cheek against his shoulder. When she spoke, her warm breath tickled his ear. “I won’t let her hurt you again, Peeta. Ever.”

He never felt such love before, and his throat constricted as he held back tears. “Don’t worry about me so much, okay?” he managed, squeezing her tightly. It was his job to worry, just as it was his job to protect her. “As long as I’ve got you, I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll always have me,” she promised, and he fell asleep with a soft smile as her words echoed in his mind.

~*~

Peeta was popular at school, both impressive to teachers and well-liked by students. He had no strong feelings for anyone, though. Aside from Katniss, no one ever made a lasting impression on him; they were utterly forgettable, even if they weren’t.

Gale Hawthorne was different. Like Peeta, he was a boy with the responsibilities of a man, and they fell into an easy friendship. Peeta compartmentalized his lives at home and school, but Gale somehow fit into both. While Katniss was busy with the after-school activities Peeta encouraged, he and Gale would pal around until it was time to pick her up, and then Gale would give them a lift back to their house. Katniss was always quiet during the rides, always staring out the window angrily, probably still annoyed she was forced to be social. He still jokingly called her Catnip after having misheard Peeta when he said her name as he introduced them. Katniss never seemed to notice or care, and Gale would sneak glimpses of her in his rearview mirror, then share an amused smile with Peeta as she continued to pout.

One day while waiting for her soccer practice to end, they watched as she dominated on the field. Katniss was not at all amicable to the idea of team sports, but Peeta wanted to get her out of the house whenever possible and he knew she was naturally athletic. She moved with such ease and grace, radiant with the strength Peeta admired so. After she scored, she walked back to the bench and greedily gulped from her water bottle.

“Your sister’s getting hot, man,” Gale said to Peeta, his eyes still on Katniss. Peeta’s fist flexed instinctively as he tried to process what his so-called friend had just said.

“You better be speaking literally,” Peeta told him as he watched her use a towel to dab at the sweat on her brow.

“That too,” he joked, but there was nothing funny about it to Peeta. Suddenly it was very easy to imagine the feeling of Gale’s Roman nose cracking under the force of his knuckles, and he lost himself for a moment as he allowed that particular fantasy to play out. He could almost hear the cartilage crunching as it split, feel the hot blood spilling over his hand.

Katniss was and had always been beautiful, and if Gale didn’t realize that until just now, he was a fucking moron. 

“Watch yourself,” Peeta said lowly, ever the protective older brother. Acting was second nature to Peeta, though, so he recovered flawlessly with a convincing smile. “I don’t want to have to hate you.” That much at least was true.

Gale laughed lightly, brushing it all off as friendly ribbing.

~*~

Mama hated how close he and Katniss were, hated how they needed each other but not her. Peeta would never repeat the things she said and insinuated when Katniss wasn’t around, but those words hurt more than any physical blow.

The summer after Katniss turned 14, their mother announced that Katniss would be spending six weeks at an educational camp across the state. She beamed with the news, and Katniss sat shell-shocked as Peeta processed the words, too. “My girl can do anything,” Mama said. “It’s ‘bout time she got out of here and spread those lil’ wings.”

If she expected a fight out of him for it, she was surely disappointed. He also wanted Katniss out of this hell hole, after all. It might have stung unexpectedly, the realization that their mother would never pay for anything like that for Peeta, but he refused to dwell. He’d pick Katniss, too.

It was his sister who threw a tantrum, screaming and threatening and refusing as their mother packed her things. Peeta coaxed her out of the bathroom where she barricaded herself, and he gently kissed her forehead as she cried herself to sleep in his arms.

“I don’t want to go,” she said stiffly as they waited at the train station on the evening of her departure. She sat as close to him as possible, her hand twined with his. 

“It might be fun,” he said, but his head now ached at the thought of her not being home with him. She was his whole world. “Maybe you can make some friends.”

She gripped onto him tighter. “I don’t want any friends.”

“You could change your mind,” he said absently as he stared straight ahead, utterly distraught.

They called her to board, and he pressed some folded bills into the palm of her hand. He had quite a bit of money saved up already from his after-school job waiting tables and he wanted her to have cash if she ever needed it.

She didn’t try to refuse because she knew he wouldn’t allow it, so she quietly thanked him, her eyes locked with his. Behind them, their mother cleared her throat and told her to hurry along. Peeta watched her until she was out of sight, and then he turned around to find his mother smiling at him, self-satisfaction written all over her face at the sight of his misery. He knew then why she paid for Katniss to go away.

To pass the time with her gone, he picked up as many shifts as the law would allow, compulsively read and reread every book he owned, and counted down the minutes until she’d return. Then, when there was nothing else left to do but sit and stare, he called Gale.

His friend immediately invited him to a party he heard about, and Peeta accepted reluctantly. He was well-liked at school, yes, but he was playing a part there, just as he played a part at work. The idea of going out and continuing the act in another social setting was exhausting and unappealing.

But everything was better with the alcohol burning down his throat. He slammed back a shot, then another, and soon he was surrounded by a group of people who stood around enraptured as he told them a true story he was making up on the spot. They laughed at all the right parts, eating out of his hand just like he knew they would. So he continued to tell them all everything he knew they wanted to hear, and everyone loved it. Here, everyone loved him.

Gale’s good looks always got the girls to come over, but it was Peeta’s charm that made them stay. He took another sip from the longneck and met the stare of a girl with black hair pulled back in a low ponytail. With the help of a few more shots, it was easy enough to pretend.

He got addicted to the pretending. It was the realest part of him. Even after Katniss’s return, he still found himself out with others, laughing and playing as if life was that simple. 

“Where were you?” Katniss hissed when he snuck in late at night. 

“What do you care?” he asked, suddenly near tears at the sight of her. 

She scowled back at him as he unbuttoned his shirt, and then she was at his side, her fingertips pressing against the marks on his neck and the light scratches on his shoulders. “Who were you with?” she asked, fire in her eyes.

He twisted away from her touch. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her hurt was immediate, and he fell to the edge of the bed and gripped his hair, hating himself. He really was as worthless as their mother claimed.

“Are you mad at me?” she whispered, and he wanted to laugh hysterically at her. She had no idea, the effect she had. No fucking idea.

“No,” he cried pathetically, still pulling at his curls. 

She knelt before him, wrapping him in her arms, and he wept against the soft skin of her neck.

~*~

The front door slammed and then there was the sound of a revving engine zipping down their street, and Peeta looked out the kitchen window to see his mother getting in the front seat of an unfamiliar red sports car. He dipped the last dish in the soapy water and rinsed it clean, then he grabbed a towel off the countertop. “Where’d she go?” he asked Katniss as he walked into the living room, drying his hands.

She sat slumped on the couch, staring at the black television screen. “I think she has a new boyfriend.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully, brows raised. Anything that distracted her from them was a good thing in his mind.

He took the seat next to her as she turned around to peer out the window. “She’s such trash,” she said with disgust. She sighed as she settled back next to Peeta and rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

Katniss had days like this few and far between, times when she felt so trapped that she actually wanted to indulge in the fantasy of their escape. Peeta knew it was no daydream. He was going to make it happen one day, as soon as Katniss graduated high school, in fact, and together they’d run toward a better life.

He was saving up everything he could, and next year when he turned 18, he planned on staying at home and taking classes at the local college until Katniss was done with school and legally an adult herself. He figured he’s have more than enough put away by that time to get them far away from here.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked her softly, earning a rare smile.

“Far away from here,” is all she said.

“We can go anywhere you want,” he vowed. 

The smile transformed into a frown and Peeta’s brow furrowed in concern. “What?”

“You should go away for school,” she said sadly. “You shouldn’t have to wait around for me.”

“You know I’m not going anywhere without you,” he told her. “That’s not going to happen.”

He would never leave her, just the thought of another separation was enough to make him feel sick. Katniss’s love and admiration was well appreciated, but he couldn’t allow her to feel guilty over anything. She might have thought he was brilliant and talented and capable of doing anything, but Peeta knew his only ambition was to keep her safe and close. He viewed any other pursuits as catalysts for that cause.

“Where do you want to live?” he probed further, pulling her tighter against him.

She smiled again, and he loved that he was the only one able to make her do that. “Away from the city.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe somewhere near woods, away from all the lights. So we can see the stars,” she said. “I’d love to have a skylight in the bedroom so we could fall asleep with them.”

He sadly looked away, wondering why she thought they would still be sharing a bed in her dream home. It would be best to tell her now that that couldn’t happen. That it shouldn’t happen. Instead he boldly declared, “You’ll have it one day.”

Her eyes shut as she snuggled closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“You’ve never broken a promise to me,” she said reverently, and he kissed the top of her head.

“And I never will.”

~*~

He was in an inexplicably good mood after finishing such a long, hectic shift. The restaurant busy even for a Friday night, but he made a killing in tips and now he got to go home to Katniss and relax. They planned on a quiet, relaxing night together, and she’ll read and he’ll paint until they’re both ready to sleep. It was an unusual weekend for two teenagers, but it was exactly how they wanted to spend their time.

He placed the takeout bag for her in the front seat of his compact coupe, which was the first thing he bought when he had enough money put away. She was usually with him on nights like this, as the family she regularly babysat for would always drop her off at the restaurant before close, but her services weren’t needed that night, so he imagined she was already in her pajamas at home and just about to put on the tea.

He loosened his tie as he turned onto their street, and his good mood dissipated immediately when he saw all the cars parked around their small house. Their mother was supposed to be going out with her new boyfriend, not throwing another party for her worthless friends. Just the idea that Katniss was in there with the strange men in her crew was enough to send his heart racing in fear. He remembered the time that his mother’s friend, Cray, had cornered an 11-year-old Katniss and told her how pretty she was, his crooked finger trailing down her arm as he stared expectantly at her. Peeta had him pinned against the wall before he could make another move or implication. “If you even look at her again, I’ll break your neck,” he growled, and he may have only been 13 at the time, but he was strong. 

When their mother came after him for embarrassing her in front of her friends, Katniss had snapped at her, darting protectively in front of Peeta to intercept any blows. He still wasn’t sure if it was Katniss or the alcohol that had her stunned, but she slunk away like a discouraged snake. 

They were always protecting each other like that.

“Katniss!” he howled as he burst into the house. “Katniss!” 

There weren’t as many people as he had anticipated, ten tops, but he didn’t recognize any of them and he would never trust his mother’s judgment anyway. “Katniss!”

“In here!” she called from behind their closed bedroom door, and he sighed in relief.

She was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, annoyance painted clearly all over her face. “She left, but her “friends” needed somewhere to crash,” she informed him once he was in the room. “They’re supposed to be gone by morning.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” he snapped, just as agitated as she was. Now they were practically held hostage in their own room by strangers, and there went all their weekend plans.

He unbuttoned his dress shirt, groaning when he realized he’d left her cheese buns in the car in his panic. “It’s okay,” Katniss told him when he explained. “Don’t go back out there. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.”

So they sat in their quiet room, listening as the music and laughter from beyond their door permeated the walls. “Can we just go to bed?” she asked soon, already fluffing her pillow. He sighed his agreement and pulled on his pajama bottoms, settling in behind her on the bed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his hand resting on her hipbone. 

She scooted back so she was pressed fully against his chest. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “It’s hers. Let’s just go to sleep.”

They shifted on the mattress until they found a mutually comfortable position, each on their sides, with Katniss’s head tucked under his chin and his arm slung around her waist. The sound of strange voices and music blurred into the background as he focused on her soft breaths. This is what he wanted to remember of tonight, he decided. Her. Always her. 

Hours later, they were both awoken by the loud moans from the other side of the thin wall. It was a woman’s voice, begging to be fucked harder, and her pleas were punctuated by the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as her demands were met. 

“Oh my god, who is that?” Katniss whispered, obviously disgusted.

“Who knows?” he replied, but he had a pretty good idea. He thought back to earlier when he entered the house, his quick survey of the room and inventory of the faces he saw. Whoever it was sounded a little younger than the usual crowd their mother ran with, so he imagined it was the petite brunette who had been sitting in the living room, trifling through their CDs. He had seen her with his mother twice before, and he was once introduced to her but she never gave him her name. There had been a tall, blond guy eyeing her in the corner, and he’d bet his life that it was that man now asking her how much she loved his cock.

She did, she assured him in breathy moans, and Katniss rolled away from Peeta in annoyance, her body rigid and unforgiving as she gripped her pillow. “Fuck yes, make me come.”

They weren’t even trying to be discrete, their cries and moans growing louder the longer they went. Katniss was facing opposite him now, and he turned back on his side, too, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the noises. 

The man told her how tight she was, how good her pussy felt, and she told him her pussy loved his cock as Peeta rolled his eyes. Katniss was closer to him now, acting as big spoon this time, and he glanced over his shoulder to see eyes were closed again. She was a heavy sleeper, so he hoped she was already unconscious again and missing the show.

The mattress in the other room squeaked as the couple found a rhythm, and Peeta was surprised when Katniss hooked her leg over his and inched closer, the softest sigh escaping her as she gently pressed against his ass.

“Make me come, make me come,” the woman cried out loudly, and Katniss rubbed against him again. Now he knew he wasn’t mistaken, that she was really doing that. He needed it to stop, though. She had to stop. So he yawned loudly, his eyes screwed tightly shut, and then rolled over to face her.

He refused to look at her. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass her, because it wasn’t like it was unheard of, getting turned on while listening to others having sex. He would be hard right now if he wasn’t fighting it so much. He never wanted her to feel ashamed, but he couldn’t allow this to continue.

She seemed undeterred, and she slid closer to him, her leg still thrown over his, spreading her against his cock. He held his breath now, using every ounce of self-control he had to stay soft as she thrust against him, seemingly desperate for something she wasn’t quite sure how to attain. Her breathing was heavy now as she rubbed her body with his, and he couldn’t stand it anymore, so he opened his eyes, desperate to know if she was awake now, too.

But her eyes were shut, her skin flushed and her mouth slightly open. She never looked as beautiful to him as she did in that moment. He wanted to tell her to use him to get off, that it was okay, that he wanted her to feel good, that it was natural. But it wasn’t, and he gritted his teeth as he tried to summon the courage to stop it.

In the other room, the woman was still begging to come as they moved faster and faster together, and Peeta nearly lost it when he looked down to see Katniss’s hand slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. He was rock hard in an instant, and he rolled away from her, but her elbow and hip were still in contact with his body.

The man cried out as he came, and then it was silent. Silent except for Katniss’s breathy moans as she fingered herself next to him. He felt the mattress shift as she raised her hips to shimmy her shorts down her body, freeing her completely, and the mental image of her legs spread out next to him was nearly enough to make him come in his pants himself. 

She was so wet, he realized. He could fucking hear it as she slipped her fingers through her folds, her breath hitching as she moved. He could feel her body tensing against him and he closed his eyes tighter, trying so hard to think of anything else in that moment, but his mind and body betrayed him, and the crystal clear image of Katniss finding her clit and circling it greedily is all that played in his brain.

He wanted nothing more than to turn over and finish her off for himself, to push up her tank top and finally taste the skin always so off-limits before. Fuck, he wanted to taste other parts of her, too, places he never allowed himself to imagine because the shame of how much he wanted her nearly killed him.

“Oh,” she cried out softly, and he knew she was near release. ‘Come, Katniss,’ his mind screamed, and the choked sound deep in her throat that she emitted next told him that she had.

He continued to pretend he was sleep as she pulled her shorts back up her body, her breaths escaping in short, hard gasps that he wasn’t supposed to hear. His cock throbbed against his stomach and he ached to wrap his hand around himself and finish, too, but he could never do that with her next to him. He didn’t know where it would stop then.

When she was settled under a blanket and snoring softly moments later, he quietly slipped out of the bed and the room, padding quietly to the bathroom at the end of the hall, desperate to make himself come to her image. His cock was jutting out before him as he reached out to turn the doorknob, and nothing could deflate him now, not even the surprise of the knob turning before he touched it, or the door opening, or seeing the face of the petite brunette whose name he didn’t know.

But she knew his name. She said it with confusion a second later, then her gaze travelled down his body and to the prominent erection straining against his flannel sleep pants. “Well aren’t you all grown up?” she said with a smirk, and he looked away in shame. 

She was obviously still high on something, her hooded eyes slightly blood-shot. She smelled of beer and another man’s cum, and he would never dream of touching her in a million years, but he was so desperate for release that he didn’t stop her when her hand reached out to stroke him through his pajamas.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and he looked up to see her looking down in awe as she licked her plump lips. He could see the hint of white powder still clinging to her left nostril, and that should have been enough to bring him back, to make him pull away, but he was too far gone to think of anything other than the feel of her hand on him. It wasn’t the hand he wanted, and his own was more adept at pleasuring himself, but in this moment it would do.

“Can you make me come, big boy? I’ll fuck you so good if you’ll make me come.”

He closed his eyes and pictured Katniss, imagined her long, dark hair on the pillow as he moved on top of her, pictured her small, firm breasts with those perfect, dusky nipples he’s only seen briefly as she quickly changed in front of him.

“You’re so big and hard,” the woman said, breaking his fantasy. “Do you want me to suck-”

“Stop talking,” he snapped. 

She slipped her hand into his underwear and gripped him, and his hips bucked forward in pleasure. The relief was instant, and the need to come so powerful that he was sure nothing could stop him now. He was just about to push her to her knees, the image of Katniss in his mind, when his theory was challenged in the form of a small, confused voice that he would recognize anywhere.

“Peeta?”

He looked up to see Katniss standing in the doorway to their bedroom, anger, disgust and something else shadowing her face. He softened instantly.

“Go back to bed,” he growled.

She glared at him, hate in her eyes, and then retreated back into the room, slamming the door behind her. He closed his eyes in frustration before turning to follow her. The woman called out for him, but he ignored it.

The next morning, she crept out of bed before dawn, and she didn’t say a word to him all day. Before he left for work, he asked her if the Odairs would be dropping her off at the restaurant that night, and she shrugged, not sparing him a single glance.

Guilt and disgust with himself knotted his stomach, but Saturday nights were the most profitable ones, and he needed to focus on their goal. He smiled and charmed every party in his section, and an hour before close, he took a break in the kitchen to organize the bills and toss away the phone numbers.

When the swinging door that led out to the opulent dining room opened, his breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of Katniss and Gale as they stood with the hostess. He studied them for a moment, the conclusion already drawn, and then stormed out to face them. 

“Peeta!” the hostess, Cecelia, said. “I didn’t know you had a sister!”

He ignored her, his eyes on Gale, who was smiling broadly. “What are you guys doing here?” he asked shortly.

“I ran into Katniss outside. I just stopped by to see if you wanted to go to a party at Thresh’s after work.”

Peeta exhaled in relief, then eyed Katniss suspiciously. She was fucking grinning back at him, her face nearly contorted by the expression that looked so unnatural on her. 

“Peeta,” she said sweetly as she looked back at Cecelia. “Don’t be rude.”

“Oh,” he said, flustered. “Yeah, Cecelia. This is my sister, Katniss.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Katniss,” the older woman smiled.

“You, too,” she replied. 

“I was just telling her that you two look nothing alike,” Cecelia laughed. “Now your friend here could be her brother for sure.” 

Gale and Katniss shared a smile and laughed, then Gale elbowed her playfully. “Gotta admit, I’m glad I’m not.” She seemed to blush at this, and Peeta clenched his fist, his short nails biting into the skin of his palm.

“We’re half-siblings,” Peeta replied coldly, his stare still focused on Gale. He stepped past Cecelia, who surprised by his sudden change in temperament, and led the other two away from the podium. “I can’t go out tonight,” he told Gale. “Our mother’s out of town, so I’m staying in with Katniss.”

Gale was about to reply when Katniss intercepted. “Why don’t you come over to our house, Gale?” Her eyes flickered to Peeta’s as he clenched his jaw. “We’d love to have some company.”

Back at the house, she announced that she was going to change for bed, and she slowed purposefully when she slipped past Gale on her way to the bedroom, their eyes locking for a long moment, which did not go unnoticed by Peeta.

“What’s up with her?” Gale laughed nervously, and Peeta shrugged as he struggled to keep his composure. 

Peeta asked him about work, and they made small talk for a few minutes, though Peeta was struggling to pay attention to anything that was said, even his own words. He knew Katniss was angry about last night, and he understood her disgust (if it had been her in his position, he would have killed the other man, no doubt) but her behavior toward Gale was baffling. She was so unlike herself, with the smiling and chatting and, yes, flirting. It unnerved him, the way she was slipping into another skin as if it were her own. That was his shtick. He wanted better for her.

When she entered the room again, she was wearing a thin tank and shorts that she outgrew nearly two years ago, and even Gale, who knew damn well that it was shitty to hit on a friend’s little sister, could not stop from blatantly gawking at her. 

“Want to watch a movie?” she asked innocently, her hips swaying with purpose as she sauntered over to the DVD case.

“No,” he said, startling her with his tone.

“Maybe Gale does. Do you, Gale?” 

Gale looked back and forth between the two, confused by their odd behavior. “No, Catnip. That’s okay.”

Peeta rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, pressing against the sockets in frustration. Her nipples were straining against the cotton of her top, and her dark areolas were on full display, the sheer, white material doing nothing to hide them. He didn’t even know where she got a shirt like that, what could have possibly possessed her to wear it in front of them. She was always so demure, so pure. This wasn’t like her at all.

Then she bent over in front of the television, her knees stick-straight as she pressed buttons on the DVD player. The pajama bottoms she wore were so short that the curve of her ass peeked out from the bottom, and her olive skin looked so smooth that he had to stop himself from reaching out to feel it for himself. Gale was staring at her, too, obviously aroused but conflicted. “I should get going,” he finally said, blinking rapidly. 

She turned back to them, tugging at their hem. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, bracing his hands on his knees before standing, and Peeta knew exactly why. There was no doubt in his mind that Gale was going to go home tonight and jerkoff to these images, and the thought nearly drove him insane.

“Oh,” Katniss said, disappointed, and Peeta’s gut twisted. “Well, I guess I’ll go to bed then. Bye, Gale.” She smiled at him, and Peeta didn’t know if it was returned because he couldn’t take his eyes off of her until she turned around.

Peeta watched with barely disguised contempt as his friend’s eyes raked over Katniss’s body as she left the room, but then he faced him, his face red. 

“Man, I’m sorry. Fuck. I can’t believe I was perving on your little sister.”

He didn’t say anything because in that moment, he wasn’t in control, and he always had to stay in control. Their entire lives depended on it.

“Look,” Gale continued nervously. “I would never do anything, alright. She’s what, 15?”

Peeta nodded, and it felt like his entire body was shaking with every emotion he’s been trying to suppress. Usually on nights like this, when everything got to be too much, including his own mind, he would seek solace in Katniss’s arms. “I’m so tired, Katniss,” he would say, and she would beckon him to her and wrap herself around him.

Never has she been the source of his anger or frustration. Now he didn’t know what to do with himself.

And fucking Gale Hawthorne, who had to go and be a standup friend right now. Didn’t he know that Peeta needed to hate him? That the only thing that could make him feel worse in that moment was for Gale to be someone that was truly worthy of Katniss, someone that a normal brother would approve of. They really could be together, if she wanted. No one would question it. No one would stop them. There would be nothing to hide.

They could have a life together, a family together, a future together and nobody would bat a fucking eyelash.

“I wouldn’t do anything. I’m sorry,” Gale said, and Peeta shut his eyes, for once desperate to escape into the recesses of his own mind because, finally, the present was worse than the past, and he couldn’t bear to think about the future.

“I know,” he managed. “It’s just been a long day, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

Gale took the cue to see himself out, and Peeta sat and stared straight ahead, finding a focal point on the wallpaper that he nearly burnt holes into with his eyes. It was a tiny dandelion, and he stared, stared, stared until everything else blurred in the background and melted into a shining pool of nothing.

Everything was still shimmering like stardust as he stumbled down the hallway and to their room, and as he twisted the doorknob to open the door, he realized his hands were shaking with barely contained rage. He didn’t know what he was capable of doing in a moment like this, even to Katniss.

Calm down, he told himself, just as another much louder voice reminded him of her simpering smile as her eyes locked with Gale, that smug satisfaction painting her face as she left them behind, her hips swaying invitingly for another man.

“Well, you’re a piece of work, aren’t you?” he said, and she turned around, yanking out her earbuds in annoyance.

“What?”

He crossed the room in three strides and roughly grabbed her wrist. “Are you trying to make me crazier than I already am?” he hissed.

Anger flashed in her eyes, but not before fear did. If this were about anything else, he would have released her instantly and ran away, mortified and terrified over his behavior. But he looked down to see she was still wearing those shorts, and everything out of focus sparkled as his stare settled on the thin material.

“Did Gale like them?” she asked tauntingly. She sounded so unlike herself and so much like their mother in that moment that he was relieved, because now he really could hate her.

“Oh, he loved them,” he said coldly, his hand tightening around her hard enough to bruise. “You put on quite a show out there.”

He released her as she jerked back. “Go away, Peeta. Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want to see you.”

The white tank top was riding up her flat stomach, and the contrast with her skin was hypnotizing. “I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

“Maybe you should find that burnout and sleep with her,” she said offhandedly. “I won’t interrupt you this time.”

He scratched at his head, tugging his hair in frustration as he glanced around the room, trying so hard to look at anything but her. “I don’t want her,” he swore, scraping his nails against his scalp. “I’d never want her.”

“It looked like you wanted her,” she said, leveling him with her stare. 

“And it looked like you wanted Gale,” he spit back. “So do you?”

‘Do you?’ his mind screamed. ‘Do you want him?’

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

She didn’t cross her legs, and traitorous eyes kept darting to her inseam, his cock twitching at the sight. He forced himself to look away again. “Please,” he begged. “Change out of those fucking shorts.”

He heard her moving on the bed, and when he looked back, she was watching him as she tugged down her legs, and when he saw the thatch of hair between her thighs, he realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He bit the inside of his cheek, his mind screaming to look away, but he couldn’t, not if his life depended on it, which it very well may have.

She reached down to cover herself with her hands, shielding his view, and he exhaled in relief. “Do you think Gale wants me?” she asked innocently. 

He didn’t know what to say, because either answer was wrong, so he stayed quiet, and she sighed in frustration. “No one else does,” she said, looking at him pointedly, tears in her eyes.

And that was it. That was all it took to shatter whatever resolve he had been clinging to like a lifeline. “Lie back,” he demanded, and she looked up on surprise. 

He kneeled next to the edge of the bed, and his palms slid up the sheet until he reached her knees. When he hooked his hands behind them and pulled her forward, she fell back against the mattress with a shocked, “Oh!”

“Spread your legs,” he said, shutting out everything else. Only Katniss had the power to hit the pause button in his brain, and she was all he thought of when he dipped his head to taste her.

“Oh my god,” she cried, her legs spreading wider to accommodate him. He refused to stop, refused to refuse. It was no longer possible to deny her or himself of the one thing they needed most- each other. 

Peeta ran his tongue up and along her folds, her moans his guide. She tasted phenomenal, better than he ever imagined. And fuck, how he imagined it. He could admit it to himself now, how much he always wanted her. She was who he thought about every time he touched himself, she was who he pictured whenever he lost himself in another girl. 

“Peeta,” she cried out, fisting his hair. He stopped to look up at her, and her nipples were hard beneath the shirt, and he licked his lips for them, too. 

He returned to her center, this time focusing primarily on her clit, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue, then alternating with long, slow strokes with the flat of it. She screamed in response, and he smiled in satisfaction, his hands anchoring her hips to the bed. “I’m gonna…ahhh!” she cried out again, tears in her eyes, but he didn’t allow himself to look away. “Peeta, I’m going to do it. I think, mmmm, I think I can do it like this.” 

Her entire body was tense as she raised her hips closer to his mouth, and they stared at each other as he brought her to the precipice. She started palming her breasts over the shirt, and he was so hard it was painful, but all that mattered was her. All she needed was a little more and she would snap, so he brought his one hand closer to the inside of her thigh, his fingertips grazing the mound now rubbing against his chin. Her legs shook around his head as her back arched, and he moved faster, relentless.

“Yes!” she screamed, arching off the bed as the orgasm hit her. “Peeta!”

His eyes fell shut in bliss as he licked back down to her opening, feasting on her until she begged him to stop. Finally he pushed off the bed and stood, his cock still rock hard.

“Mm,” she said, licking her lips as she reached out to touch him. He inhaled sharply when her small hand covered the bulge straining against his trousers. “Can I do that for you?” she asked, her eyes bright and pleading. 

“Not now,” he said, pushing her away so he could unzip.

She pulled her shirt off and moved up the bed, eager for the next step that would change everything forever. Right now, he was too.

“It’s going to hurt,” he said regretfully as he positioned himself between her thighs. 

“It’s okay.”

He cupped her breast in one hand as he rocked against her, coating himself in the wetness. She keened underneath him, begging for more, promising that she was ready.

“Oh fuck, Katniss,” he cried as he inched forward, too far gone to stop now. 

“Do it,” she demanded as she pressed closer to him. “Fuck me.”

He thrust forward, nearly losing it as soon as he was fully inside her. There were tears in her eyes from the pain, but she urged him on. “Does it feel good?” she asked sweetly, and he nodded, his eyes closed as he willed himself to last just a little longer.

“Does it feel better than the other girls?” she asked, her voice dripping with bitterness now. His eyes popped open as he stared back at her.

“Yeah,” he panted, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. “Of course.”

She nodded, satisfied, and he moved faster. “Do you like it?” he asked, turning the tables. “Or do you wish I were Gale?”

Katniss bit her lip, but she refused to answer him, and he realized that she was still upset about last night. “Do you think Gale could fuck you like this?” he added, rising to his knees and jerking his hips in sharp, short thrusts that had her clawing at the pillows, though he didn’t know if it was in pleasure or pain. “Do you think anyone else could ever fuck you like this?”

She shook her head, unblinking, and his balls tightened. He slipped out of her, crying out her name as he came on her stomach, his semen spilling onto her smooth skin and the damp sheets. 

After, Katniss sighed happily, and Peeta tried to not hate himself for being so damn weak.

~*~

“We’re going to have to be careful,” he warned her later as she straddled him. 

“Yes,” she agreed, sinking down onto him, grimacing slightly at the pain. But soon she found a rhythm and the soreness was forgotten. “No one else could fuck you like this, either,” she declared, bouncing lightly.

“I know,” he told her, grasping her hips and slowing her. “Here, do it this way.” He showed her how to ride him, and she was so damn gorgeous that he nearly forgot how to breathe. This moment would be with him forever, and for that he was grateful.

“You’re perfect,” he muttered over and over in awe. “I love you so much. I’ll never want anyone else, I promise.”

~*~

“She can never find out,” she added later, her legs splayed open as she circled her clit. 

He stroked himself as he watched, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “I know,” he sighed.

She was close, he could tell, and that was all he needed. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked as he ran his hand up and down his cock, the thick precum coating his shaft.

“Yes,” she cried, and they came together.

~*~

She turned her head to kiss him lazily, her last orgasm thoroughly exhausting her. Peeta moved from behind her, still hard but too sore and tired to try to come again, and she settled on his chest, content to listen to his racing heart.

“We’ll go somewhere far away, where no one knows us,” she said. “Then we won’t have to pretend anymore.”

“You’ll be living a lie your whole life,” he said sadly. “Are you sure you want that?”

“I want to be with you,” she said. “Anything else…that’s the lie.”

He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger, and looked up at the ceiling and smiled. “I like the idea of a skylight.”

She kissed his jaw and smiled. “You promised.”

He did. He’d never forget that.


End file.
